


Still Searching

by never_wake_up



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Druids, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-30
Updated: 2016-06-21
Packaged: 2018-05-17 06:00:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5856841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/never_wake_up/pseuds/never_wake_up
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alone and broken Breaga, a Druid, finds herself on the streets of Camelot struggling to survive. She is being pursued, for she alone holds the spell that can save Odin's son and sole heir. After being taken in by Merlin, Breaga trusts no one, but develops a bond with Arthur, putting Uther's alliance in jeopardy. Please review, suggestions and feedback welcomed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

"It is time," the words, barely audible, passed through the cracked lips of the weathered, graying man. He lay on his back upon a bedroll, carefully placed within his tent. The only source of light in the linen structure was that of the moon and the dozens of candles the circle of mourners held outside, gathered in front of tent. His daughter kneeled at his side, clutching his hand in hers and pressing it to her cheek. "No, father, don't, you are not dying, not yet." She spoke, hushed but forceful.

"I have lived along and fruitful life. I have healed many, failing none but myself, at this moment. The time has come for you to take my place. I will pass on to you the spell that every Druid leader before you has processed." His breathing was labored now, and his eyes began to glass over. Tears were flowing freely down the girl's cheeks and he wanted nothing more but to wipe them away like he had so many times before, but he had not the strength to do so. Too distraught to protest, she acquiesced, placing a kiss in the palm of her father's hand. Using the last ounces of his strength, the dying man raised his hand upward and uttered weakly, the sacred incantation. "Só leigheas na créachtaí agus na sláinte ar ais!" At that moment, his breathe hitched and an illuminated orb appeared and travelled from him to the pale hands of this daughter. Overcome by the appearance of light beaming from her fingertips, she hadn't noticed that her father's body had gone limp, his mouth hanging slightly open.

"Father?" she asked sadly, "Father, wake up." Her pleas went unanswered. "No!" she howled, "No! No No!" The painful sobs carried in the wind, filling the cool night with sadness. Her wails confirmed the mourners' worst fears, Aglain, leader of the Druids, was dead. And his Daughter Breaga Spelloyal, was now in charge.


	2. Chapter 2

The brisk morning chill was cause for Breaga to stir. She hadn't moved from her place at her father's side and had fallen asleep over his now cold body. None of her fellow Druids had the heart to remove the body until Breaga had her time to mourn. As she began to fully awake she was reminded of her new role as leader, a role that she couldn't imagine tackling without her father's guidance.

Breaga remained laying protectively over her father, losing all sense of time. She hardly moved, causing the people some amount of concern. Fully conscious, her gaze was fixed on Aglain's ghastly countenance, mind devoid of any thoughts. She easily could have remained in that state for ten lifetimes if it weren't for the noise the jolted her back into reality. A shrill horn sliced through the morning air. Breaga bolted upward, knowing very well what this meant; an attack.

She was on her feet almost instantly, despite the stiffness in her joints. Making her way to the entrance of the tent, she drew back the curtains and took in the scene before her. Women and their children were scrambling to return into their tents, the men procured anything that could be used for defense, pitchforks, axes, knives, and spare furniture to act as a barricade. And then she saw their doom; horse-mounted, armor-clad, red-caped soldiers had surrounded their camp. For mere moments, time seemed to stand still, and then, as if in slow motion, the leader of the attack raised and lowered his hand as signal to begin the assault.

Time caught up with her and Breaga watched has the men stormed in to the heart of the settlement, lowering their torches to make contact with the cloth tents. Flames seemed to erupt from every direction and the cries of the wounded filled the air. As her people were being slaughtered, all Breaga could do was watch, open-mouthed. One of her own men was suddenly flung at her feet, breaking her out of her trance. Blood dripped down from his nose and the corners his mouth. Breaga's eyes travelled to his stomach, where a sword had buried itself up to the hilt. The man's frightened gaze met hers, and his lips quivered. His hands gripped at the sword in his abdomen and in one swift motion, he removed it with an agonizing scream. A twisted smile crossed his lips and he handed the crimson stained weapon to Breaga, an action that filled her with anger. Anger that her father was gone, anger that they, the peaceful Druids, were being attacked. She took the sword and studied it in her hands, gripping it firmly, knowing what she must do, fight for and with her people. She returned her attention back to the man at her feet, hoping that she might be able to save him, but he had passed, the traces of a smile still apparent and eyes still open. The tent behind her, containing her father's body burst into flames. Breaga gasped and swallowed hard. She looked at her father one last time, taking in his peaceful expression, and then she began to run. Sprinting into the thick of the losing battle, Breaga had a thousand questions spinning in her mind. _Why were they being attacked and who had given away their location?_ Breaga swung the sword viciously, catching a man in his side and pulling him down from his mount. She brought the flat of her sword down against the side of his head, leaving him crumpled in a motionless heap. Whipping around to assess the battle, Breaga noticed a Druid fighter fending of three attackers. She rushed to his side, immediately striking one of the aggressors with the sword and with her magic, knocking the second back against a tree. As she used her sword to parry an oncoming blow, she questioned her attacker who, unlike the rest of the army, was not wearing a red cape but rather tattered, brown armor, "Why are you here?" she asked fiercely, eliciting a grin.

"We're here to find the one that possesses the sacred healing spell," he spat confidently, in a heavy brogue, "And if you can hand them over, we'd be glad to call off the attack." Breaga almost dropped her sword. _What?_ _All this carnage could cease if she turned her self in?_ _So many lives could be saved and the settlement might be salvageable as well_. The Druid man she had assisted looked at her hopefully, and perhaps even expectantly. And without second thought, Breaga let the words escape her mouth.

" I have the spell. Stop this attack and I will go with you. Just please, don't hurt anyone else." The attackers face twisted and he released a dark chuckle, his ragged brown armor adding to his filthy appearance.

"Well little lady, it seems you will be coming with us." The man's meaty hands sheathed his sword and grabbed her pale wrists, holding them together. He let out a might roar and the fighting ceased, the red-cloaked men gathering behind him. They didn't seem to belong with this man; they were polished and formally trained, nothing like this crude and filthy beast.

A thick rope was tied around her wrists and secured to the grungy man's saddle. The squadron of soldiers marched through what remained of the Druid encampment, dragging Breaga, now a prisoner, with them. The surviving Druids gather to watch the procession, tears and ash and blood streaking their faces. One called out to Breaga. She to, allowed tears to flow, not for herself but for her peoples' loses. She was still fixed upon them when the rope gave a great jerk and she was tugged forward, stumbling and falling into the dirt. As she regained her footing, she once again heard that familiar chuckling.

"Aye little lady, I'm Odin. Nice to meet you."

* * *

It had been the better part of four hours. Where the rope pulled, Breaga's wrists burned and her throat was dry and raw. The scorching sun shone down through the canopy of trees, which offered little protection. Sweat dripped into her eyes and she was beginning to feel dizzy, so her stumbling became worse. After what seemed like an eternity, they halted, the soldiers dismounting and scattering about to look for shade. Odin walked around to the back of the horse where Breaga was secured, holding a small pouch filled with water.

"Hey, how's the little lady doing now, eh?" his tone was condescending and when his hand made contact with her shoulder, it made her skin crawl. "Perhaps she'd like a bit of water?" he pressed. Extending his arm towards her, Odin forced the pouch in her face, and she looked away. "But you must be thirsty, girl," he said sarcastically. Breaga turned her head sharply, gathered as much saliva as she had left, and spit in his face. Odin was taken aback. "HOW DARE YOU!" he bellowed, raising his closed fist and striking Breaga with all his strength. She was knocked to the ground; the left side of her face throbbing. Odin marched off, dropping the water pouch inches out of Breaga's reach. After a few moments, she composed herself and returned to her feet, unable to be rid of her doubled vision. She raised her bound wrists to wipe her nose and brought them back down, surprised to discover a smear of blood. Her eye was undoubtedly swelling shut and her head ached sharply, making the next jerk of the rope even more unbearable. Only this time something strange happened, as the rope was jerked, she did not go along with it, but the rope snapped and she knew immediately what to do.

She took off running into the to thick of trees, wrists still bond, and unsteady. Breaga did not know how much of a head start she had, if one at all. With her vision and balance compromised, she whacked into various trees and tripped over countless roots. Behind her she could begin to hear the fainted sound of hoof beats and she pressed on harder, praying that she could find a place to hide. Ahead, the ground seemed to halt, dropping off into a steep cliff. Breaga knew she had no choice but to jump and did so without any hesitation. When her body made impact with the dirt at the bottom of the cliff, she was relatively unscathed, except for a nasty gash on her right forearm. She sat up and pressed her back to the cliff, squeezing her eyes shut and catching her breath, fighting the pain in her arm and eye. When she reopened her eyes, she could make out a large castle not too far in the distance; Camelot.


	3. Chapter 3

With eyes focused on Camelot, Breaga began to formulate a temporary plan. She could hide out in Camelot until the search for her died down and then quietly return to what was left of her Druid settlement. That will have to do, she thought, I have no other options. She adjusted her tattered green cloak around her shoulders. The weather was beginning to change and dark clouds blotted out the sun. The crackling of leaves somewhere above caused her to freeze. It must be Odin and the other men looking for me. Listening carefully she could make out bits and pieces of what they were saying, "…filthy girl…double the patrol and…make sure…I'll make sure when I'm done with her…" He went on to list various tortuous acts and Breaga exhaled, blocking it out. So, she had no choice but to not be found.

After waiting for Odin to disappear back into the forest, Breaga began the rest of her journey to Camelot. The sky was now overcast with dark grey clouds and the temperature had dropped significantly. When a light drizzle of rain began to fall, she was grateful for her hooded cloak, a gift from her father. A wave of sadness ripped through Breaga, stopping her in her tracks. She clenched her eyes shut and, taking a few deep breathes, waited for the hurting to cease before resuming her quick pace in the direction of Uther's kingdom. Her swollen eye throbbed with each step and her wounded arm hadn't stopped bleeding so Breaga was forced to tear a strip of cloth from her cloak and wrap it tightly over the wound. Several more minutes of walking, rain now falling steadily, and she found herself passing through the northern gates of Camelot, completely drenched, exhausted and overwhelmed. What am I doing?, she thought. Never had Breaga seen such a sprawling city. On occasion when she was a little girl her father would take her with him when he ventured to Cenrid's kingdom, but it was no comparison to Camelot. She walked down what appeared to be the main road lined with carts selling all types of goods; cloth, vegetables, iron works, spices, and bread. The scent of bread warmed the air. Breaga's stomach rumbled; It had been two days since her last meal. She had reached the first flaw in her plan; she had come to Camelot penniless. Perhaps she could beg for a crust of bread, she wasn't proud.

Breaga pensively approached the cart and licked her lips nervously, "Excuse me sir," she addressed the vendor, "I have no money but I am very hungry. Could you spare a crust of bread?" His angry look told her all she needed to know but some desperate part of her pressed on, "Please sir, I really-" The man snapped yelling at Breaga callously.

"Be gone you beggar! I work hard for my money, be gone!" She recoiled, expecting to receive a blow, accustomed to Odin's poor treatment. The man had returned his attention to a pouch of coins he had been counting previous to Breaga's inquiry, leaving her, heart pumping, still staring wide-eyed at the bread. A passerby, a young woman with flawless, caramel colored skin, seemed to take notice of the scene that had just unfolded. She approached Breaga, causing her to start. The woman's caring and concerned face put Breaga at ease but she was still cautious.

"Is everything alright?" she asked, looking from Breaga to the vendor then back.

"Yes uh, everything is fine. I was just trying to get a bit of bread but uh…" Breaga trailed off, a little embarrassed about her impoverished state. But this seemed to click in the woman's mind and she immediately motioned for the man.

"Sir, I'd like to buy a loaf of bread please." she said confidently, handing him a coin. He nodded and turned to grab a loaf. "Oh and sir?" she started again, "The warmest one you've got." She gave Breaga a wink and extended her hand, "I'm Guinevere. But you can call me Gwen." Her smile was warm, and Breaga decided that she liked Gwen.

"Breaga" she said softly, causing Gwen's grin to widen.

"That is a lovely name. If you don't mind me asking, what happen to your face?" Gwen remarked, gesturing towards the red and purple lump that was once her eye. She handed the bread to the paler girl. Breaga had almost completely forgotten about her appearance. She was probably filthy and covered in cuts and bruises.

She shuffled awkwardly, "I, uh, was walking in the crowd and someone's elbow clipped me." She lied, but something told her Gwen didn't buy her story.

"Well, Breaga, it was lovely meeting you, I've got to be going now." Gwen said warmly and strolled off.

Breaga called after her, "Thank you!" and the other woman turned back and smiled. Touched by the kindness this woman had just showed her, Breaga promised herself to pay it forward someday.

The rain had begun to lessen and Breaga had found a small spot between two houses in which she could settle. She sat down, hood still on, and began in on her bread. It was still warm and for a moment, an escape from the chill. The loaf was almost half way through when a shadow was cast over the seated girl. Breaga raised her head to see a scruffy man with a long scar marring his face. He flashed his rotting teeth and spoke.

"Doesn't that bread look nice? Want to share?" He grabbed for the bread, but Breaga bolted to her feet, clutching the bread to her. "It's nice to share!" yelled the man lunging for her. She yelped as he grabbed her injured arm and snatched at the bread again.

"Help! Help me!" Breaga called, hoping someone on the main road would hear her. She struggled to release her arm from his grip and began to kick at him. Thrusting her arm out of his grip, Breaga was flung backwards and onto the ground. She scrambled to her feet and began to run, tears streaking her face. She could have kept running if she hadn't run right into someone. Her petite frame was once more sent towards the ground, and she held her arms defensively in front of her face, afraid of what she must face.

"Are you alright?" said a male voice. Hands made contact with Breaga's shoulder and back and lifted her back to her feet. She was crying now, face pointed to the ground. The man lifted her chin and made her meet his gaze, "What happen to you?" he said, genuinely concerned upon noticing her rough appearance. Breaga, too shaken to answer, brought her hands to her lips, breathing rapidly. The man had light blonde hair and piercing blue eyes. He scanned Breaga's face and took notice of her arm, which had bled through her makeshift bandage, blood smear on her arm. He turned to a younger looking boy Breaga hadn't noticed before, with a small frame and jet-black hair. The blonde said something to him in a low voice and he took a step towards Breaga, who instinctively flinched.

"I'm not going to hurt you," said the dark haired boy, "I'm Merlin. That gash on your arm looks pretty bad. We're going to take you to the court physician, alright?" Breaga was shaking now, unsure if to trust them or not. The blonde was wearing a red cloak identical to the men who had attacked her people. Her eyes darted between the boys who were exchanging concerned looks. There was no way she had the strength to out run them. Panic set in and then everything went black.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the shorter chapter. Thanks to all for reading and as always, feedback is welcomed and appreciated.

Breaga awoke slowly, feeling the warm sun shining softly on her face. She was in a bed, two thick, wool blankets draped over her. The bed was in a small room with an adjoining door. A bedside table was to the right, topped with various vials and a bowl with a rag resting in its base. _Where was she?_ Breaga sat up, head throbbing, and examined the room around her, calculating her next move. _Had she been taken by Odin's men?_ The room seemed too nice to be a dungeon. The door opened, startling her. Breaga had raised the blanket to her face, cowering with her eyes squeezed tightly shut.

"Woah! I didn't me to startle you, it's me, Merlin. Remember?" He was carrying a small tray lain with more vials and another bowl, this one filled with thick porridge. At this, she relaxed some, releasing the tension in her muscles and lowering the blanket back down. Breaga managed a weak smile, which told Merlin he could proceed. He walked around to the side of the bed and sat on its edge, placing the tray at the foot of the bed. "Well, your eye is looking a bit better," he said cheerfully, examining the girl's face. Breaga instinctively reached to touch her eye and grimaced when she did. "Ah, I wouldn't touch it," Merlin warned, gently pulling her arm away from her face. Her memory of the prior days' events began to return, she then remembered her father. It felt like she had been punched in the stomach. Merlin must have noticed the change in her and was quick to bring up another topic, "How about your arm? Can I see it?" he looked into Breaga's frightened eyes and assured her he meant no harm, they were a fierce green. She apprehensively extended her arm, which had been bandaged in white linen strips, now blood stained. _That couldn't be good_ , she thought.

She watched as Merlin's nimble fingers unwrapped her wound. The boy, noticing her watching, looked up and smiled. Once the wound was undressed, he took a moist cloth and dabbed it gently, careful to read Breaga's expression for any signs of discomfort. She gritted her teeth as he applied a salve and skillfully redressed the injury. "There," Merlin remarked, surveying his work, "all done." He turned to return the supplies to the tray when he heard in his mind a small, female voice, _Thank you_. Whipping around, he saw Breaga, unmoved, smiling slightly. "W-what?" Merlin asked, bewildered. _I said thank you_ , the voice said again. "You're a Druid?" he stated, more than asked. The girl nodded, rolling up her other sleeve to reveal an intricate treskelion tattooed on her forearm.

"My-my village was attacked," she said quietly, voice as delicate as lace. Merlin sat back down, staring at Breaga intensely.

"It's alright, you can tell me." he pressed gently. Merlin placed his hand on her shoulder and she looked at him, tears threatening to spill over.

"My father was, dying," Breaga swallowed, speaking slowly, "and he passed on the sacred healing spell, to-to me, next morning Odin attacked, but the men with him, they, they didn't seem like his men, they wore red capes, like your friend. They were looking for me, so I surrendered myself, but it was too late. I was supposed to be in charge and everything, everything-" she shook her head and buried her face in her hands, leaning into Merlin who embraced her.

"Shh..." he comforted, "Its alright." Merlin had never been great at comforting people, but he hoped he was helping just by being there. He spoke in her mind, _Hey, its alright. Can you tell me your name?_

She responded aloud, "Breaga." Now sitting up, she rubbed her eyes, again forgetting about the injured one. "Ah-" she whimpered. It was still extremely tender and her vision was slightly stinted. Merlin gave her comforting look.

"Still that sore? I'll have Gaius look at it again. But here," he handed her a cool, moist cloth and she pressed it lightly to her eye. "If you're hungry, I've brought you some porridge." he said motioning to the bowl still resting at the foot of the bed. Hungry, she was. It happen been two full days since she had eaten and the ravenous look in her eyes told Merlin it all.

Merlin rose, but as she did Breaga spoke, "Merlin, thank you, for everything. Really, I can't tell you how much this means." He smiled and opened his mouth to speak, but as he did the door open and none other than Prince Arthur entered.


	5. Chapter 5

"Merlin! My boots need polishing and no one has mucked the stables today! Maybe if you didn't spend so much time in the tavern-" Arthur cut his own attack short upon noticing Breaga, propped up in bed, Merlin seated at the foot.

"Arthur," Merlin said, clasping his hands together, "this is Breaga. You know, the girl from yesterday, in the lower town." Arthur eyed the bruised girl with faint recognition, her hair in a mess of knots and eye rimmed with a swirl of dark purple. And yet, there was something appealing about her.

Arthur approached the bed and extended a hand to Breaga, "I'm Arthur Pendragon." Breaga dropped her glance from his icy blue eyes to his out stretched hand, hesitant to return his gesture. He gave a warm smile and she acquiesced, placing her small hand in his larger one. Arthur was warm and smelled of leather. She let go first, still skeptical. He was no longer wearing his red cloak. Arthur's gaze was fixed on Breaga's beaten face but fell to her arm, the surface of the white bandage was again pricked with blood. Arthur's expression soured and he met her eyes again, "What happened to you?" he asked, concern coloring his tone.

Breaga opened her mouth to speak, but was cut off when Merlin's voice rang out in her mind. _Don't mention you're a Druid! Don't say anything about magic.._. "My village was attacked." She said simply, trying not to think of her father's death shortly beforehand. Why couldn't she say she was a Druid? Breaga swallowed hard, hoping Arthur wouldn't press her for more details, knowing that he would. She was a great liar, but something inside her refused to lie the to the lean blonde perched on her bed, despite her uncertainty.

"By who? When did this happen? Was anyone else hurt?" Arthur questioned frantically, hungry for some action.

Merlin nodded to Breaga and she forced a weak smile. _Perhaps the red cloak was just a coincidence,_ she thought _._ She explained to Arthur all that had happened, starting with the death of her father. She omitted the bit about being a Druid and all information regarding the healing spell and being taken captive. Breaga found herself losing her composure when she began to describe the slaughter of the her people.

"They just lay fallen, everywhere..." she said slowly, swallowing feelings of guilt. "If we were ever attacked it was my father who would save the day, always. But he..." she trailed off. Merlin stood in the corner of the room, his gaze meeting the floor. Arthur's eyes were still fixed on the broken figure next to him. "I should have saved them." Breaga said with a new intensity. "I should have done more. I stood there like a frightened little girl. They were my responsibility. It's my fault that-"

Arthur clutched her shoulders, causing her the flinch slightly, and leveled himself with her. "Breaga, listen to me. This is not your fault. Just tell me who it was that attacked your village and I will do everything in my power to make sure they pay for what they have done." She had nothing to say in return, she just stared back at him, a strand of silky brown hair had fallen in her face and Arthur's nimble fingers swept it behind her ear.

"Odin." She looked as if she might faint again. He stood up, rising to his full height. Arthur was broad and lean, and Breaga couldn't help but notice how good he looked, sporting a rough, red tunic shirt and brown trousers.

"I'll need to know where your village was. Do you remember how far it was from Camelot?" Arthur asked.

Breaga shook her head sadly, "I'm sorry, I don't remember. I'm not even sure how I managed to make it here." She gestured with her hands and returned them to her lap. She tried to read Arthur's stony expression but to no avail. A fire seemed to burn behind his eyes, mind clearly at work.

"I'm going to speak with my father." he finally stated, looking from the girl to Merlin, "I'll see if there's been any reports of attacks and I can use that information to locate your village."

"I want to go with you," Breaga said firmly, planting her feet on the ground and standing. A wave of nausea passed through her and she fought hard to hide it.

"What?" said Merlin and Arthur in unison. It was only now that Arthur seemed to realize how small she was. Breaga was petite, her shoulders were slight and she barely stood to Arthur's neck. She had light brown hair that grazed her hips. Her most striking feature was her eyes, they seemed to glow a gentle green, like the color of sunlight passing through the trees.

"I said, I want to go with you." _Don't you dare faint_ , she told herself, though the room was already spinning.

"It will be extremely dangerous and you are in no shape to go out, let alone be put in a situation as dire as this may be." Arthur proclaimed motioning to her. Merlin stood wordlessly shifting on his feet, not wanting to take a side.

"Well, maybe by the time you go I'll be better. It was my responsibility to keep the people safe and I failed. The least I can do is bring Odin to justice. So, please, don't count me out yet." she said pleadingly.

"Maybe," Arthur said and when Breaga smiled he started up again, "But as long as you promise me you'll rest up until then. You need to heal"

"I will, thank you." She smiled and crawled back into bed like an obedient child.

"I'll come visit you soon, after I speak to my father" said Arthur, making his way to the door. "And Merlin, you idiot, don't let me catch you slacking off again. You've got two duties now. Not only do you work for me, you'd better take care of Breaga." And with that he left. Leaving Merlin with a sick expression on his face.

Breaga took notice and questioned him, "Merlin, what is it?"

"Arthur's father is the King of Camelot."


	6. Chapter 6

Breaga haunted Arthur's thoughts his entire walk to the throne room. The way her hair fell, long and flowing, to the way her small hand felt in his. To his surprise, when he remembered her flowering bruises and battered appearance, anger welled up inside his chest. _Who could harm such a lovely girl_ , he thought. There was something about her that left him feeling uneasy, but he buried those feelings down inside himself.

Finding himself in front of the closed throne room doors, Arthur took a deep, cleansing breath, shaking the thought of Breaga. When he opened the doors, he found Uther sitting alone in his throne, parchment and quill in hand.

He looked up upon hearing the door open, "Arthur, I thought you were working with the knights this morning," he remarked, setting his document aside and standing.

"Small change of plans, father. I was wondering if you had heard reports of attacks on villages in the surrounding lands." Arthur said, trying to sound official.

Uther chuckled, "Always, my son. Why is it you ask?" He took a step closer to his Arthur and studied him, suspicious of his motives.

"My servant and I discovered a girl in the lower town. She appeared to have been attacked and she told us that her village was destroyed, by uh," Arthur swallowed. Odin had become an ally of Camelot only recently and he wasn't sure if his father would react kindly to his name coming up in such a situation. "We have reason to believe it was Odin, father."

Uther's face fell and darkened and he blinked hard. "I am sure that if Odin has attacked a village, he had reason to do so. Otherwise it would be in violation of our treaty."

"Reason to do so?" The words tasted sour in Arthur's mouth, "What reason could Odin have to kill an _entire_ village?"

Uther walked behind his throne and placed his hands on the back of the chair, holding on tightly, so his knuckles protruded from his leather gloves. "As you know, Odin and I signed a treaty, uniting our kingdoms. Odin's son was gravely wounded in a joust and his only hope is… sorcery." The word hung heavy in the air and Uther's lips twisted as if he had tasted poison. "Unlike myself, Odin tolerates magic and enchantments, and has sought out the help of countless sorcerers. All have told him to seek out the Druids, for one of them possesses the power to save his son." The color seemed to have left Uther's face and he relaxed his hands.

Arthur looked puzzled, "I don't understand what this has to do with-"

"I agreed to supply men to help him find this, this _Druid,_ but in return he will honor all the points of our treaty." Uther's eyes were burning with a fiery intensity.

"Father, I can assure you this girl is no Druid. I'm sure she must be mistaken in naming Odin." Arthur said coolly, hoping it was true. _What if Breaga is a Druid?_ He had no way of knowing, but now, for her sake, he would say she wasn't.

Something inside Uther seemed to snap and he wheeled around and faced Arthur, "You never know with their kind. They are evil and conniving and masters of trickery." His voice was calm but had an edge like a razor. "I want this girl detained."

* * *

"I'm afraid I don't understand," said Breaga, confused. Merlin was now pacing around the small room, running his hands through his hair. He walked to the side of the bed where Breaga was seated and placed his hands on her shoulders, just as Arthur had before.

"Uther hates magic. If he finds out you are a Druid, he will kill you." Merlin spoke, hushed and breathy. _Do not cry,_ Breaga urge herself, _you've done enough crying._ Her eyes searched his face for something, sympathy, hope, anything.

"So," she began, voice cracking slightly, "What do I do?"

Merlin took a deep breath, "You need to get out of Camelot." There was a hint of pity in his voice, pity that Breaga did not want.

"You don't understand I have nowhere to go, I'm being hunted. Even here I'm not safe!" Breaga's composed front was crumbling quickly and she hastily brushed some renegade tears from her cheek. "Merlin please, you've helped me so much already." Merlin squeezed his eyes shut and pinched the bridge of his nose. Maybe he could help her, maybe. But he'd have to get Arthur on board. After all, Arthur had helped Mordred, the little Druid boy Morgana saved. And Merlin had seen the way Arthur looked at Breaga, so maybe there was hope.

"Breaga, listen to me. I am going to do everything I can to keep you safe, but we need to tell Arthur the truth," he said seriously, darkness creeping into his tone. Arthur had to be told soon or else he might feel betrayed by Breaga and Merlin's lies. Breaga smiled and brought her hand to her mouth. Relieved, she flung herself at Merlin, who returned the hug. Even compared to him, she was small. He couldn't imagine her running through the woods, evading Odin and his men. The thought made him sick. Now, more than ever, he felt the need to do all he could to protect her.

* * *

He had done all he could to argue with his father, but Arthur could not stop him from sending two burly guards to the court physician's chambers. Arthur stormed out of the throne room and ran down the corridor, in search of the back staircase. If he could make it there before the guards, he could hide Breaga. Before he knew it, he was outside the door and, without knocking, flung himself inside, not stopping to greet Gaius and ran right into Merlin's room.

"Merlin! The guards are coming for Breaga, my father believes she's a Druid! We need to hide her!" Arthur spat breathlessly. Breaga and Merlin just stared back at him, wide-eyed. "Don't just sit there, come on!" He seized Breaga by her good wrist and mumbled something to Merlin. This caused Breaga to panic, reminded of being Odin's prisoner. She tried to tug away but Arthur's grip was firm. "Breaga! Breaga!" Arthur shouted, "Look at me, hey, calm down, look at me. I will protect you, I won't let them take you." She managed to weakly nod and he whisked her into the corridor, leaving Merlin to cover for them. Arthur looked down at Breaga, who was shaking uncontrollably; he gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. He lifted his gaze from her, and straight at the two guards standing right in front of them.


	7. Chapter 7

"Just follow my lead" Arthur said firmly, through clenched teeth. He gave Breaga's hand a reassuring squeeze before turning his attention on the guards. "Ah, I see you are all late to the chase as per usual. I've got the girl. Bring her to the cells." Arthur's large hands guided Breaga into the waiting grip of the guards. They jostled and pushed the girl. Arthur watched, lips pressed together, trying his best to avoid comment on Breaga's rough treatment. He could tell she was afraid. He could read the fear in her eyes, the way she kept glancing back at him as the guards brought her to the dungeon, the trembling of her shoulders, and the lone tear that had fallen from her glassy eyes.

Before he could prevent it, Breaga was shoved with great force into a decrepit cell, landing on her hands and knees. She made a pained noise, weight landing on her unfavorable arm. Arthur tensed. The cell was locked and the guards dispersed, leaving the prince gazing upon the broken prisoner. Breaga remained on her hands and knees, eyes squeezed tightly shut. She remained eerily still.

"Breaga, Breaga, listen to me," Arthur said finally. "I'm going to come back for you, alright?" I'm going to get you out of here." He searched her for any sign of movement; none. Arthur sighed, turned away, and walked up the dungeon stairs. Breaga stirred, bringing herself against the cell wall, knees drawn tightly to her chest, face buried.

It had never been in Breaga's nature to show fear. Aglain had always told her, "Fear is for those who lack faith". Not wanting to disappoint her father, Breaga had adapted, suppressing her fears, masking them with a calm and fearless demeanor. Often she was more than fearless; she was reckless. Breaga would act impulsively, putting herself in danger to help others, and many times, just to show how "fearless" she was. Emotions were another thing that Aglain was not fond of. "Not everyone must know what you are feeling and thinking, Breaga" he had told her, so she, too, suppressed her emotions, cloaking them with a stony expression. Breaga had not meant to be so open with her emotions upon her arrival in Camelot, but the taxing events of the previous days had taken their toll. With the overwhelming loss of her father, she had found it appropriate to cry, but now, amongst the presence of others, she decided she needed to compose herself. This was all very much unlike her. She was not a weak, sniveling little girl. Breaga took a deep breath and wiped away the remaining tears, she refused to let Arthur, or anyone look at her again with pity in their eyes.

Arthur's mind was racing as he made his way to his father's chambers. How could he convince his father to release Breaga? If he suspected her of being a Druid, there was no way he would allow her to go free. Arthur had yet to address his own feelings on Breaga's potential Druid heritage, there was only one thing on his mind; her freedom. If he couldn't convince Uther to release Breaga, perhaps Arthur could deceive him. He didn't like lying to his father, but when he found it necessary, Arthur had no problem doing so.

By the time he reached his father's chambers, Arthur had formulated a rough plan to save Breaga. He took a deep breath before opening the doors.

"Inform Odin that we may have his Druid in our custody," the king said to a guard, "Send men to dispatch this message immeadiately."

Arthur clenched his fists before enter the room further, "Father."

Uther and the guard turned to Arthur and Uther greeted him, "Ah, Arthur my son."

"Father, I've come to report that I have questioned the girl you took into custody earlier" Arthur lied. At this, Uther's attention was clearly captured.

"And?"

"And I would like to inform you that she is not the girl you and Odin are looking for, nor is she a Druid." Arthur stated matter-of-factly. Uther looked at him blankly.

"How can you be so sure? They are masters of trickery" his tone was bitter. _Think fast, Arthur, think fast._

"The girl in custody does not have the mark of the Druids, nor does she possess anything linking her to the Druids. " Arthur lied again. Uther was still not convinced.

"So how can she explain Odin attacking her village?" the king questioned.

"She simply misidentified whomever did attack. She a simple peasant and has been traveling for days, injured, without food, and traumatized. Its no wonder that she can't tell us where she's from, let alone identify whom attacked her village." Arthur had surprised himself with this lie. Uther's expression was difficult to read. For moment he seemed relieved but then angered.

"Where is this girl now?" Uther questioned carefully.

"She is, uh,-" Arthur stuttered, struggling to think of a response. "Once I determine she was not a Druid, I had Gaius tend to her injuries and she was sent on her way." He prayed this lie would be enough to convince Uther. For a moment, his father said nothing.

When Uther finally stirred, he said, "Well, good job, my son." The king stood and placed his hand on his son's shoulder. Arthur breathed a sigh of relief.

"Thank you, father. I've got an archery lesson to teach now, so I should ensure my servant has my bows strung." Uther gave his shoulder a squeeze and Arthur left his chambers. He leaned against the wall and sighed loudly, once more. And then he ran.

"So shall I not send the message to Odin sire?" questioned the guard.

Uther, eyes fixed out the window, responded stiffly. "Yes. Do send the report and send patrols to survey the surrounding lands. I want this girl found. Arthur is easily fooled, I will leave nothing up to chance when sorcery is involved."

* * *

 _Drip, drip, drip._ Breaga counted each drop of water as it dripped into a nearby puddle. How long would she have to wait here? Was Arthur even coming back? _Fear is for those who lack faith, Breaga;_ her father's words rang through her head, his voice sounding with a stunning clarity. She brought her hands over her ears, trying to block his voice; she wasn't ready to be reminded of him, she couldn't bear to think of what happened. Completely in her own world, Breaga didn't hear the cell door creak open and it was only when she felt two hands on her shoulders that she realized Arthur had returned.

"Arthur!" she whispered, surprised.

"Breaga we've got to go. We're going back to Merlin's chambers, you're going to hide there for now." Breaga opened her mouth to protest, but Arthur continued, "Its alright, its safe." She nodded, overwhelmed with the urge to cry tears of joy. _No more crying,_ she told herself.

Arthur walked quickly to the court physician's chambers, holding firmly to Breaga's hand, guiding her behind him. She was grateful for this contact, an unusual action for the ever-manly Arthur.

When they reached Gaius' chambers, Arthur went straight for Merlin's room. Merlin was sitting on the bed, reading a large, old book with colorful drawings within its pages. Upon Arthur's abrupt arrival, Merlin flung the book under the bed so quickly; it was made obvious to Breaga that Arthur was unaware of Merlin's magic.

"Merlin, Breaga needs to hide here." Arthur said breathlessly. To her surprise, Merlin did not appear phased.

Merlin sighed, "She can have my bed."

Breaga smiled, "Oh, thank you, Merlin! Thank you!" She hugged him once more.

Merlin turned to Arthur, "Sire, she can stay here, but for how long? Uther will eventually discover there's a girl living here, won't he be suspicious?" Merlin's concerns revealed the very obvious flaws in Arthur's hastily made plan.

Arthur spoke, bringing a hand to his chin, "I have an idea. I'm going to speak with Guinevere, I think she might be able to help us."


End file.
